Ice cream
by TurboFerret
Summary: The war is over and Knock Out tries to fit in with the Autobots, sometimes it is difficult. Sometimes doing what is right means breaking the rules. Also a prequel for the story "Pinpricks". Also a Bumblebee/ Knock Out fluff.
1. 4:30 AM

I could not fit this little one in any of my current Transformer stories so it is a standalone which is set a little before the 'Pinpricks', which you are also welcome to read. A little fluff never hurt nobody.

Be gentle,

Turbo

* * *

The Autobot base on Earth was much calmer after the end of the war. Now they were primarily busy with taking shifts to patrol for any incoming bots while stationed in the little blue planet. That, or in case of Knock Out, finding out more about the sentient organics. That night Smokescreen had dragged the reluctant medic out to show him how humans had fun despite insistently polite attempts of the red mech to shake him off.

So it came as no surprise that Bumblebee was jolted up from his sleep by Smokescreen howling just outside his personal quarters. At first he was alarmed, his stingers whirred to life but after hearing laughter he calmed down and tried falling asleep again. Unfortunately snippets of conversation floated around his audio receptors like annoying hummingbirds refusing to die down. Seriously, were they camping outside his door? For a moment he considered shoo-ing Smokescreen and whoever he was with away but something in the conversation about cone-shaped party hats and an angry Knock Out held his attention. Something about carnival and human children. In general it was difficult to distinguish who it was that Smokescreen was speaking to but according to his tone of voice it was an exciting story. If the medic was privy to the conversation he provided no evidence of that.

-" It just went Plop! And we were on freeway going fast so it slid all the way up his roof; in a white line! And then he tried wiping it off and it went all over his windscreen!" Bumblebee heard some laughter, good, at least Smokescreen was not talking to himself but that also had been the last straw to his patience.

-"Guys, could you talk elsewhere? I have an early shift tomorrow." He yelled from his berth not bothering to even open the door.

He could hear muttered apologies and shuffling, they were leaving, good.

About half an hour later he was roused from his sleep again by a quiet knock on the door. It was tentative, almost not there. Bumblebee dismissed it for tricks of his processor until he heard it again. Grumbling he pushed himself up from his prone position and glanced at the small human clock Raf had given him for learning how humans tracked their time. The mechanic construct consisted primarily of cogs and a tightly wound spring, the spring tension had to be reinforced every 24 human hours… and it ticked. At first it made Bumblebee uncomfortable but when Raf explained that some people likened it to the beating of human heart, the mech learned to like the sound.

The clock face was white with black dials tipped in phosphorescent substance that glowed in the dark. Currently the large dial rested in middle bottom and the small dial was perched somewhat between numbers 4 and 5. So it was 4.30 by human standards though whether it was 4.30 in of the day or night still depended on checking the light conditions outdoors. Things got even more confusing in areas closer to the Earth poles where presence or absence of light was not a reliable indicator. He heard a knock again. OK, his sleep time was officially over.

Bumblebee dragged himself out of the berth and mumbled next to the closed door still hoping it had been his imagination -" Who is it?"

-" May I come in?"

-" Knock Out? Shouldn't you out of all bots be getting beauty sleep?" Bumblebee slid the door open and stepped aside letting the red mech in. The medic was clearly agitated so for a moment Bumblebee even felt a pang of compassion in his spark, that was until Knock Out turned on the overhead illumination much to scout's chargin'.

-" Ow, was that necessary?" Bee covered his eyes against the glare, wincing as he felt the optic shutters clench painfully. -"You could have warned me."

-" I need you to tell me if you see anything." There was a pressing urgency in the way Knock Out spoke as he stepped up closer. Bumblebee blinked again, confused. -" I can see, thank you, I am still not blind despite your efforts."

Knock Out made a noise of annoyance and pointed to his chassis. -" I meant here."

Bumblebee blinked, realization dawning on him, optic ridges drawing downwards. -" Did a bird mark your hood again? Seriously, you woke me up for that?"

Bumblebee liked birds for their colorful plumes and lovely voices but birds liked Knock Out more when it came to their less poetic bodily functions. Granted that the Aston Martin preferred parking in places which protected his paint from the glare of the sun (to avoid premature fading of his top coat) he became an easy target when no shadowy overpasses or roofed parking lots were available. Generally grounders had a compromised relationship with birds, bugs and an occasional raccoon, but Knock Out was the only one who thought it was their fault for getting in the way.

-" Worse." The medic growled. His finish did look fresh and fragrant from the wax, still retaining warmth from the washracks but for some reason he still was not satisfied.

-" Look, I want to sleep. Please stop playing charades and tell me what I should look at."

-" Spots. It was this white, cold and greasy organic substance human children use for fuel."

-" You mean ice-cream."

-" So that is how it was called." Knock Out's eyes brightened and Bumblebee assumed that he was already checking human networks for the chemical components and their interaction with paint.

-" It could have also been frozen yoghurt." Bumblebee suggested just to annoy the medic. He did not feel charitable at all. Not at 4.30 in the human-time morning. -" Depending on grease and carbohydrate ratio it could have been an ice cone or a slushie." He continued counting off other white cold substances he could recall on his digits -" Or a fruit sorbet with high citric acid content, or a frozen pudding … mayonnaise?" Now that was bending it but he was enjoying himself. That is before he saw Knock Out's narrowed optics on him.

-" Now you are just messing with me." The medic stated wryly, looking belligerent.

Bumblebee shrugged, what could he say? That was the truth but apparently that was important to Knock Out so he sighed and promised to be serious about his inspection. He leant forward to examine the chassis of the ruby mech in all earnestly. Everything looked neatly polished, almost liquid to an optic. Bumblebee wondered how much time Knock Out had spent on it to look that way. He asked the medic to turn around to examine his back after he was done with the front, humming slightly. More time passed as the medic stared blankly at some human poster that hung next to Bumblebee's berth. He tried to delve deeper into the contents but felt a slight peck on his audiofin. He tensed a bit, regarding the black and yellow bot from the corner of his eye, not saying anything, just waiting, assessing.

Bumblebee slapped himself mentally, it had felt right somehow but ended up being awkward. -"You missed a spot there." He summoned a lighthearted smile.

Knock Out's eyes dimmed, his professional mask clicked in place as he straightened up and shuttered his eyes before he continued -"I hoped that I would not need to remind you that under no circumstances should you ingest human food. Especially not the sort that was thrown at me."

-"I will keep that in mind." The scout chuckled, now what Smokescreen had said earlier that night was making sense.

After a moment of silence Knock Out finally spoke -"Thank you."

Bumblebee cocked his head to the side inquisitively. -"What for?" He was not done teasing the red mech but he had to be delicate, too much teasing might make him avoid Bumblebee altogether.

-"For… for your time." The medic excused himself and quietly retreated from the room.

As Bumblebee had feared, Knock Out had set to avoiding him as well.

* * *

Confused Knock Out is confused. Or rather, not sure what to make of things early on.


	2. Not disliked

So, by popular demand (debatably) I decided to make a little prequel story for Pinpricks out of this one-shot. Enjoy!

Also, thank you all who cared to review - this chapter proves how much I love you guys ;)

* * *

Knock Out carefully balanced a piece of wiring onto a soldering plate. His new project - prosthetic arm for Ultra Magnus - occupied most of his thoughts. He had measured the larger mech who was still very obviously suspicious of him (he could have at least pretended to be happy, he had a claw for a hand for Primus's sakes) and set to drafting a rudimentary blueprint. This would probably take several attempts and that was fine as far as Knock Out was concerned.

For one, Smokescreen was really getting on his nerves about that ice cream incident. It made him wonder if the life of the Autobot indeed was so lacklustre that the only exciting thing about is was an ex-con being bombarded by a ball of mushy organic substance. He would not have laughed if something like that happened to anyone else...he might have sniggered a bit to himself but…

-" Ugh…" He heard a knock on the door of the med bay. That definitely was not Smokescreen who by far preferred using phase shifter and jumping at the medic from various unexpected hideouts. Arcee had explained that it was his version of being friendly...friendly indeed. Knock Out remembered having upended his energon ration onto himself when the little glitch popped out of the floor. A lecture from Ratchet about harassment and ban of appearing in med-bay without a valid reason seemed to reduce the rookie's enthusiasm but it remained to be seen for how long that would last.

-" It is open!" He shouted without turning his head to see who it was. His spark gave out a little when he saw a cube of energon pushed in front of him, hesitantly he followed the hand which had brought it and was relieved to see green.

-" Would you like to join us for a movie night doc?" Bulkhead...Knock Out was ambivalent about the wrecker. His history with Breakdown and countless times Knock Out had to deal with the consequences of their little feud left him unimpressed about the mech, even though he seemed quite pleasant and easygoing in person… that was when he was not breaking irreplaceable equipment. Then there was this fact of him having saved Breakdown in time whilst nobody else on Nemesis had budged. Starscream having come to his rescue was a moot point for Knock Out and he had left it there.

-" Thank you..." He offered a polite smile and schooled his expression to be as neutral as possible. "...maybe some other time." If the medic had expected the wrecker to leave he was in for a disappointment. The green mech lowered himself to the level of the work bench and looked at the rough outline of the prosthetic. Thank Primus he was not trying to touch it, having learnt better from the previous time when Knock Out had swatted at his hand, claws and all. It had been more trouble than it had been worth at the time, at least as far as the medic was concerned. He had emerged from the dispute with two broken claws, Bulkhead got a pair of superficial scratches. Yet, now when Knock Out was doing something at the lab table Bulkhead his hands to himself, however in exchange Knock Out would sometimes give a little demonstration on how his projects funcioned.

-" What are you doing?"

-" I will show you." He put a weak electric current through the skeletal scaffolding of the fingers, quietly delighted by the surprised noise Bulkhead made when hydraulics responded to wire stimulation and flexed slightly. The tactile circuitry was difficult to recreate and offered him an opportunity to stay focused on this activity for hours on end, no unnecessary thoughts, no confusion and no what-ifs. Recent developments with Bumblebee gave him even more motivation to happily sink into lab work and not think about him ...or _Him_.

-" How long does it take to make it?" The Wrecker moved around the workbench carefully as he coulld to get a better look at the construct. Knock Out remained undecided on whether or not he liked him there, so close to fragile equipment and too close to himself for comfort.

-" Depends on availability of parts, the range of motions and responsiveness of the finished piece. Then, there will be some prototypes which will be never be used but will help eliminating any possible glitches with the real prosthetic. But I guess I am not answering your question. Normally it takes about three weeks to make something serviceable, so far I have been at it for about one week, on and off."

The answer seemed to satisfy the green mech but now curiosity was replaced concern in his features. -" Does this mean you will stay cooped up here for 2 more weeks?" He asked as if it had been something incredulous.

Knock Out blinked in surprise at wrecker's concern. Staying in the lab for too long was characteristic to being a medic ...or scientist. -" Hopefully not, but sometimes lab work demands undivided attention." He tried putting as much emphasis on the last sentence as possible. He had come to a conclusion that presence of Bulkhead in lab did make him more jittery. -" Aren't you missing the movie?" The medic now reached for the energon cube to sip on it, marvelling how he had not noticed just how hungry he had been until now.

Bulkhead sighed. -" I hope you can join us next time. We do not hate you, you know." Knock Out almost choked on his energon but managed making it sound like him clearing his throat. So much like Bulkhead to drop the bomb without the slightest warning.

-" Thank you, Bulkhead. I appreciate how supportive everyone is, I just need time to adjust." That was not a complete lie, despite his initial flamboyant announcement of joining the team the transition was uncomfortable for all parties involved - tiptoeing around certain issues and then bashing into others. Gladly most of them got the hint when it was time to give the medic some breathing space. The wrecker straightened up having seen the tense smile Knock Out was giving him now. He felt like he had outstayed his welcome and left the med bay.

The medic turned back to work on the prosthetic. Ironically he had been ignoring the mounting pressure in one of his own wrist for a while; now it had come to a point where one of his claws cramped painfully and he dropped the wire. He cursed, hastily put the soldering gun back into it's holder and clutched his wrist joint. The sudden clamping and numbness of hand joints was a common issue in his line of work. Every so often he could hear Ratchet popping his joints from a room across the hallway and he was Ancient. Knuckle popping had almost become a sound which he associated with the older medic, if anything it always informed him about his arrival. Knock Out would normally have his assistant massage away any tension for him... In a sense the gesture had become very intimate and he was not comfortable with anyone else doing it. So he rubbed his servo carefully, the long, narrow digits not being the best for this purpose. Annoyed, he stretched the hydraulics this way and that, occasionally popping the joints (he blamed Ratchet for picking up that habit), applying warm oil to relax the constricted springs and bemoaning the fact that he was stuck at this point of time in a predicament where he could not ask anyone else to do it for him. After a while the cramping passed but the tension remained.

He rubbed his optics with the uninjured hand noting that the noise from the television set had died down. His inner chronometer told him it was late enough for most of the Autobots to be either on their duties or in recharge, it sounded like the little fleshbags were gone too... perfect circumstances for Knock Out to abandon his hideout and go vent. Being on his own was uncomplicated, especially when the time spent in decepticon army had ingrained in him the simple truth that proper course of action whenever anyone treated him nicely was to slowly back away and run for his life.

* * *

Because decepticons can't have nice things. :P (Please note the sarcasm, it does not pass well in writing).


	3. Disrupted duel

So, I have been watching Mr. Robot lately and if anything, it helps with the programming lingo...not actual programming though :P.

Which shows would you suggest?

* * *

Contrary to popular belief Wheeljack liked staying in their Earth base. Even though Jackhammer did have all the essentials a bot would wish for, it was only good enough for 'camping' purposes or in his case - moving under the radar, any sort of radar for that matter.

With Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet stationed on Cybertron for time being, something about establishing a better relationship with Predacons who currently had the run of the place; Wheeljack was more than happy to hang out with whoever remained in their Earth headquarters. In absence of the big important bots Bee and Arcee were left in charge - they did not gnaw on his circuits as long as he kept his constructs on the harmless side.

Ratchet had placed a request for a more efficient energon refiner. Theirs had taken a turn for worse, small energon crystals and other impurities would remain in the liquid after the filtering process, causing the end-product to be grainy and gritty. Wheeljack had been making some modifications but he still had to get the refined energon produced by the new filtering system tested.

But that was for later, since Bulk was busy babysitting he headed for the small training facility they had on the base. Practicing with swords gave him peace, though the slabs of concrete he pummelled bore little semblance to his actual opponents - they did not fight back.

That night he was surprised to see that their elusive new crewmate had abandoned his usual hideout - the medbay - and wandered into the training area. He probably also needed a stretch, Wheeljack figured, but decided to observe first before making his presence known.

Knock Out looked elegant and efficient with his staff but it was hard to tell which moves were for show and which ones was for combat purposes. He did not look like a novice but his movements were laced with certain note of perfectionism. A little side-step out of line and he would start over with the entire routine. It was never like that on the battlefield, Wheeljack smirked. If he played it right perhaps tonight he could get a good spar after all and the red mech was as close to enemy as he could wish for.

-"Something bothering you Red?" Wheeljack finally called out. The voice from the shadows momentarily startled him, Knock Out had thought he had been alone.

The medic evaded the question in his usual manner - with a counter question. -"Have you been here long? How is the filtering system coming along?"

Wheeljack shrugged -"Finishing stages, that is if you and Ratchet approve." He eyed the staff and gave a half-smile. "You make that stick look almost dangerous."

-"Hardly dangerous to a wrecker don't you think?" He spun the staff and made it's butt connect with the floor in a satisfying clang eyeing Wheeljack, his posture emanating challenge.

-"How about we put that statement to a test?" Wheeljack ventured towards the medic now standing in the middle of the room, unholstering his swords.

-"A staff against two swords?" Knock Out eyed him warily. Staves were good for keeping enemies at a certain distance but once the opponent got closer than the length of the staff it could become a hindrance, which was when Knock Out would naturally let out his buzzsaws. Now, incapacitating or hurting his new teammates was probably not the best option.

-"Can't get better practicing all by yourself."

Knock Out agreed with a tilt of his helm and spun the staff in his hand.

-"No electricity." Wheeljack warned.

The red mech raised an eyebrow and put his hand on his hip. -"Only one sword then."

-"And no buzzsaws." Wheeljack scoffed. For a medical officer Knock Out carried way too many weapons as it was. Then again having been with 'cons the poor thing needed all protection he could get.

The red mech roller his optics -"Now you just take all the fun out of it."

-"Would hate to scratch that pretty paint."

-"How nice of you to remember." Knock Out smiled sweetly and pointed his staff at the wrecker in a challenging gesture.

True to his word the former wrecker was experienced in hand to hand combat and Knock Out felt like he could cut loose. They circled the room, keeping focus on each-other to gauge the weaknesses. Wheeljack felt unbalanced with only one sword. Knock Out did not have an advantage of electric shocks. It was going to be an interesting.

The white sports car suddenly rushed at the medic who spun to the side before the sword could connect. He then squatted and used the remaining momentum to smash the bottom part of his staff into the back of Wheeljack' s kneejoint. The wrecker did an awkward little kneeling motion but quickly got his bearings and slashed at the medic, who conveniently put his staff in the way before the sharpened edge could do any damage. He did have to hastily duck away from the incoming fist. He had evaded the blow to the jaw but now he found himself cornered, meaning he could not use his staff to its full potential. Instead he planted it firmly in the floor and used it to vault himself up and over Wheeljack. The wrecker spun around, entertained by their match, brandishing his sword. That was when Knock Out's wrist reminded him of his current predicament by clamping painfully mid - spin. The staff clattered to the floor and the medic gripped the offending joint.

Wheeljack had seen it before, humans had a similar issue related with overusing wrists.

-"Did you show this to Ratchet? This does not go away on it's own."

Knock Out shot him a withering "spare me" look, he was a medic, he was aware what this was. -" I just need to rest it is all."

-"Care to go for a spin instead?"

That was always a good alternative and his wrist would get the much - needed rest. -"Any place in particular?"

The wrecker hated the idea of chaperoning the medic, in his mind keeping Knock Out locked up at their base would not have changed his loyalties or made him more reliable. But orders were orders, so the least the wrecker could do was to allow him a modicum of freedom. -"How about you show me?"

The eyes of the medic lit up but his expression remained unreadable. After a moment of silence he stated -"We will need a ground bridge for that."

Wheeljack looked at him with a smirk. -"Taking me out on a date?"

* * *

Carpal tunnel syndrome, Knock Out has Carpal tunnel syndrome or rather, the barest beginnings of it.


	4. Dead pigeons

Woop! Finally this chapter is out. Fun fact: one of the ways in which a building can collapse is literally called 'pancake collapse'. Now I think about earthquakes every time I have breakfast.

* * *

Bumblebee fondly looked at the snoozing heap comprised of a mech and two children. Bulkhead had fallen asleep with Raf and Jack over a movie they had been watching. Something about a team of vigilante war veterans "persecuted for crimes they did not commit". Wheeljack had initially joined them for the film, intrigued by the use of duct tape but soon grew bored and wandered off. Though not before he had Jack promise to secure him a sample roll next time he came to base. It was good to have peace, no need to worry for whoever might not return to base that day, for who might get hurt or captured…

Bumblebee left the common room and ventured into the corridor. Tonight he was in charge of the base - pretty simple, just prevent accidents and keep an eye on whoever is keeping an eye on the monitor. That was when he heard tiny footsteps behind him. His scout training made it more difficult for Miko to surprise him but none the less, there she stood, expectant.

-"I can't believe you were going to leave me there alone!"

-"Uh?"

-"You totally left me there with Mr. Sleepypants to _Die_ of boredom didn't you?"

-"I thought you were…" Right, only 3 persons sleeping...

-"So where is the emergency?" Bumblebee knew nothing was scheduled to happen and hoped that Miko would not contribute to creating one either. The girl looked behind his frame as if she expected him to be hiding something interesting behind his back. This made the scout tense up involuntarily, he feared that he would accidentally hurt her. He was still surprised how Bulkhead, being the least agile of them all managed avoiding any accidents with her.

-"Smokescreen would have let me know if something was wrong." That was if Smokescreen was on monitor duty. He commed the other mech and heard a flustered yet somewhat groggy answer. However he did get a more collected report a few seconds later saying that nothing suspicious was happening _now_. Bumblemee could not really blame Smokescreen but he made a mental note to give him a heads - up as to why it was important to monitor cybertronian activity.

Miko must have noticed a slight slump in the scout's posture.

-" Smokey's asleep again?"

-" Not anymore." Bee chuckled to himself.

-" So will you teach me how to scout?"

Bumblebee could not for the world of him understand why someone would want to learn that unless they were getting ready for war. -" I think you could teach me a couple of tricks of your own."

-"Hey, what is that supposed to mean?" She looked at the yellow mech for some sort of smartass remark but he looked into distance, ignoring her, his face still. Miko gathered he got another comm. Her face lit up. -"So who do we rescue now?"

Bumblebee sighed -" Looks like someone went for a night drive without letting us know." Wheeljack was supposed to be on cleaning duty today and Bumblebee had an idea about who had conveniently bridged away from a boring duty. He commed him but received no response. Annoying? Yes. Unexpected? Not really.

Bumblebee went to check on Smokescreen. The last coordinates of the unannounced bridge ended somewhere in the middle of Europe. He sighed and rubbed his helm, that explains the dead comm link, Wheeljack was out of their usual range.

Smokescreen stared at the last coordinates now portrayed as a red dot on the map. His geopolytical understanding of the other continent was fuzzy to say the least - there were far too many countries with similar names there and they were all somehow different. There was Slovenia but also Slovakia, Latvia and Lithuania and the mysterious conglomerate of minute countries named Benilux which insisted that they were all separate and totally not the same thing you guys.

Raf and Knock Out had tried helping out with associative pointers, like Germany was about BMWs and (historically much more embarrassing Trabant, according to the red mech), Italy was about Ferrari, Sweden - Volvo, Czech Republic - Škoda… They even enunciated the names in foreign accents which confused Smokescreen even more.

After that Raf and Knock Out had broken into a contest of their own to compare their knowledge of European car brands, which later escalated through Russia over to Asia. Smokescreen just backed out of the entire situation while Bumblebee could not decide who to root for. That is until he realized Knock Out had been cheating for a while by literally googling the brand names. In his defence he did say that he was just double-checking.

-"Well, that's weird." Smokescreen commented on the destination choice. Bumblebee hovered over his shoulder and hummed. Miko had managed clambering up Smokescreen's shoulder to stare at the screen as well.

-"How about we take a look where he is now." They switched to another scanning mode and surely enough, a red dot with Autobot insignia was traveling across the map to the south of the original bridge coordinates, near Freiburg. However, it was accompanied by or rather, was following yet another dot. It appeared to be cybertronian but it had no insignia to identify it. Smokescreen looked excited -"Hey that's new. Think we got visitors?"

-" You mean like new Autobots?" Miko looked excited too.

-" Well, technically these could also be neutral. Depends on what sort of beacon they use to identify themselves." Smokescreen explained being rather proud of himself. -" Though, I thought being neutral was not something that persisted for long."

-" Huh?" Miko was all ears now.

-" Eventually you chose a side..." Bumblebee added fleetingly. He did not want to go more into detail about one faction proving to be more terrible than the other depending on the neutral's standpoint. But this looked strange, Bumblebee frowned. It looked almost like a pursuit. He had a bad feeling about it, of all other mechs known to be on Earth… he commed Knock Out, no answer. He left Miko and Smokescreen to monitor the screen and trotted to med bay but found it empty. He tried Knock Out's room, it was locked, no response. It _Was_ late but it also was important, furthermore the red mech did not necessarily follow the diurnal cycle anyway. Sometimes he could be found poring over data pads in the common area early in the morning and at times he was fast in recharge at midday. To add insult to injury unlike Bumblemee, Knock Out had no issues understanding the human time, he just did not care for following the human waking hours.

Bumblebee was getting worried, he passed by Wheeljack's workshop, sometimes they collaborated on engineering projects, but found the room empty too. While Wheeljack was known for wandering off on his own accord (something the others overlooked but were not wholly comfortable with), Knock Out could only leave the premises of the base accompanied. Since Bumblebee did not know if both mechs in question had left together (and they should have informed him if they had) he grew wary. He commed them again, this time broadening the range, but received static on both ends.

The scout returned to the monitor room where Miko now sat on the console, telling Smokescreen about a couple of mummified pigeon bodies she found in their base the other day. The poor things had died after falling into the vents and the constant stream of air had dehydrated their bodies before any significant decomposition could take hold. Smokescreen did look like he was handling himself admirably, circumstances considered.

-" Bee! Any news?" Smokescreen looked more than happy for change of subject.

-" Knock Out's missing."

-" OMG he must have escaped and Wheeljack must be chasing him now!" Miko fretted. Smokecreen and Bumblebee looked at each-other. The scout did not want to believe it. They had too little info to make any assumptions on what had actually happened. He turned back to the screen, at least Wheeljack appeared to be in good health if they could trust their tracking system. And then, close to the Swiss border, both signals vanished.

* * *

No, Bee, there is no such thing as a calm shift for you, get over it.

Bulk and the boys were watching A Team - the series, yes, those from the 80s with Mr T you fools!

Why Switzerland? Well, Knock Out has this weird fascination with cows... :P


	5. Old allies

What can I say, the fate of Soundwave always bothered me.

* * *

Soundwave emerged from his self- induced stasis, his attention being drawn instantly by Laserbeak's chitter. He spent most of his idle time in stasis as it reduced the energon consumption and if worst came to pass he would just painlessly go offline. Today Primus or whoever it was that governed fates (he had never been a firm believer) was on his side and she had returned undamaged and, as it was customary with them, she settled on his outstretched arm.

Sending her off like this was always a gamble, but they both needed it to survive. To be more exact, it was him who had needed it, the minicon was light and fast enough to escape the shadow zone through one of those odd space fluctuations. Soundwave knew he was holding her back. And he was willing and ready to stay behind if only it meant that she would survive.

Much to his grief, no matter how many times he tried to convince her to abandon him she would stubbornly remain by his side. Instead she would go on her own little scouting missions and bring him something from his dimension. Sometimes it was news, sometimes it was an energon crystal, sometimes a tool or two to start working on his own escape plan. He had learned about Megatron's death through her. It caused his spark to tighten in his chest. Though he did not feel as bad as he would have anticipated, in part because he had lost his friend long before then, even before the dark energon had clouded his processor; instead gaining a quick-tempered warlord and superior. Somehow he felt that his friend and comrade had lost pieces of his former self along the way and by the end of it all, maybe the death had been a blessing after all. As for the plans of preventing his own demise - he did not yet have any in store, he needed far more supplies than the poor laserbeak was able to provide him with but nonetheless he was on to something.

A couple of months before, Laserbeak had returned with a curious object in her clutches. He had been at his limit then, practically running on fumes. He had tried to keep it from Laserbeak but she had known. Still he had gotten suspicious once she had left a smallish faintly-glowing container in the palm of his hand. His first thought was that it had been a grenade and fair enough, it had been a wrecker grenade casing but once he properly examined the quarry he was surprised. The content inside was the same shade as refined energon.

The object had been perfect to fit in her little paws - anything bigger or heavier than this would have impaired her flight and made her unable to carry it.

Where had she gotten it? Who had sent it?

He heaved a vent and opened the lid, his servos had trembled then, he thought he would faint. His mysterious benefactor had filled the flask with high-grade energon so concentrated it was more solid than liquid, made viscous by additional supplements. The high energon concentration meant that they could survive longer with a smaller amount.

It reminded him of a mix given to malnourished or starving bots back in the gladiatorial pits to prolong their miserable existence had they had the bright idea to starve themselves to death before they were tossed into the arena to be brutally offlined for spectacle.

He had attempted it once too, long time ago, shortly before he had met Megatron. The brute mech had literally force-fed Soundwave, all the time telling him that this was not how it was supposed to end for him or anyone else. He missed that Megatron, Megatron from back then had been the reason why he had stayed with what had remained of the once spirited and passionate gladiator until the very end.

He tended to harbor a sense of duty and loyalty towards those who spared his life. Luckily not many had had the chance. But knowing this also made him hesitant about accepting the energon Laserbeak had brought.

Either way, he could wait some more, Laserbeak was not bound by the same sense of duty so he dipped his digit in the thick substance and pulled some out for Laserbeak to take her fill. He felt relieved to see her biolights brighten slightly as her bifurcated tongue shot forward to quickly lap up the syrupy substance. That was always a good sign.

Watching Laserbeak made him wonder. Whoever was doing this was aware of the limitations to Laserbeak's carrying capacity and also was knowledgeable enough to make such highly concentrated end-product. A handful of bots he knew came to mind. Most of them deceased... It had to be someone who knew Laserbeak almost as well as Soundwave himself... But that could not have been right, it made very little sense.

He sent her a ping asking about how she had gotten it but instead the minicon trilled, nudging at the container. Her processor pushing through with one persistent statement - he needed it, he needed it NOW.

Since then it had become a source of their sustenance. He was careful with their reserves only using them when absolutely necessary as they never knew when and if another container would appear. However the sender had been consistent so far, by now a row of such empty containers was neatly stacked next to his work station. Since then Laserbeak had gone out scouting more both in shadow zone and their own dimension whenever the opportunity struck in search of tools, entertainment and mysterious flasks of energon. He made a mental note to ask her to return some of those to where she had found them next time she went through but it had slipped his mind on several occasions - he blamed energon deprivation for that.

Still, he now had more energy to think clearly and clearly what he had to do was to escape. He had explored the grey world while Laserbeak was gone, having enough energon reserves to take a stroll in the first few months only to be unpleasantly surprised by the dead body of Skyquake running in one of the circular canyons. He was unfamiliar with the circumstances of his sudden reanimation but as far as he could tell dark energon was involved and he had a deeply personal dislike towards the substance.

Instead he had returned to his initial location and took in the canvas of glyphs now etched in soil. For weeks now he had been panning blueprints and making an inventory of parts and tools he would need to get out of this dreary world. Right after his return from Autobots he had uploaded the data he had erased from the backup storage in the mainframe which had also provided him with those precious extra strings of code necessary for summoning ground bridges. If Nemesis was still in working condition he might have been able to pull it off.

* * *

Laserbeak is a cybertronian equivalent of a hummingbird. Hummingbirds have bifurcated tongues. You are welcome.


	6. Devil's advocate

This is an odd chapter.

* * *

No speed limits on highways were just what a twitchy race car needed. In fact, as Knock Out and Wheeljack zipped down a German highway, it was refreshing to see the bottom - line recommended speed under which they were not advised to drop.

::So that is why you picked up Deutch?::

::It is a surprisingly melodic language, when spoken properly::

Wheeljack could not tell if it was a comment aimed at him or just an observation.

::Smartass:: He injected for good measure.

They were heading South, direction Geneva, if Wheeljack's Earth mapping systems were not lying to him. Picturesque landscapes whizzed past them mainly unnoticed by both cars until Wheeljack's internal sensors were telling him that they were crossing state borders. Knock Out adjusted his speed according to Swiss requirements in a rare event of following the rules and Wheeljack followed suit. They had long stopped talking and the wrecker was just silently accompanying the red medic on his little escapade.

That was apart from one instance when they pulled over at what Wheeljack assumed was a cattle ranch. The grazing ungulates observed them from behind the fence and some wandered closer to take a look. It was an odd place to stop for Knock Out out of all mechs. The smell of manure wafted in the air as they stood there, an occasional "Moo" was the only sound to be heard.

Wheeljack picked up on a casual adjustment of the side-view mirrors in Aston Martin, he thought he almost heard a sigh.

-" Never took you for an animal lover."

-" Shh.." Knock Out shushed him and (for what Wheeljack assumed) listened intently, more moos sounded in the distance. More time passed and Wheeljack started drifting off into slumber.

Knock Out waited occasionally checking his internal timer. If the human channels had not lied it had to start soon. A couple of command lines he had picked up from Soundwave helped him exploit the human firewall vulnerabilities to his advantage. He double-checked the launching times, location and distance he needed to cover to be there on time. As it was, they had to start moving. He started his engine once more.

::Wakey, wakey!:: He commed to his companion who had fallen into light recharge in the meantime, his snore half-interrupted and turned into a rev of his motor.

::What was that about?:: Wheeljack asked about their impromptu pitstop, none the wiser pf Knock Out's private musings.

::My seats…:: Knock Out finally replied. He did not want Wheeljack to become suspicious, at least not yet.

::What about them?::

::They are made of their bio-film. Leather, as humans call it.::

The notion seemed bizzare to Wheeljack ::Huh?:: he was still too drowsy to fully comprehend what Knock Out had meant.

::My seats are made from cows.:: he put it bluntly and finally Wheeljack both got it and lost it. The car next to him even shook a bit.

::That's messed up.:: and right up his alley.

::I know, does not look like it at all.:: The red car gave a full-bodied shudder. Humans certainly took pleasure in wearing someone else's skin. A fact he was all too familiar with.

::Technically your seats are cybertronian stem-metal made look like biofilm.:: That fact was the only reason why Knock Out kept his seats and he conveyed as much.

Wheeljack snorted again, wheeling out of the mud and back onto the road. There was a thing or two to be said about the dirt and other biological matter stuck his underside and from the looks of it Knock Out was not better off either despite him having parked on the only available gravel patch on their side of the road.

:: What about your paint job?::

:: I'll think about it when I am back in the base.::

They drove in silence once more. Knock Out mentally drifted back to a conversation he had with Ultra Magnus before he departed with the rest of the Cybertronian delegation. The medic had gone hoarse trying to prove his point. A point on a matter which left him unsettled for some reason.

-"So you suggest to let him out and see what happens?"

-"Rescuing him from shadow zone does not equal release." Knock Out said dryly. -"Furthermore he is a resourceful mech, I am quite sure if he had not come up with anything yet, he will eventually."

-"Knock Out, he is one of the most avid followers of Megatron, I highly doubt he will be overcome by warm feelings of gratitude in chance we do manage rescuing him."

-" Megatron is no more." The medic's voice sounded hollow, as if uttering this statemend brought the air of finality, but to his surprise Magnus continued.

-" Then he might as well go on a vengeance spree."

-" I have my doubts that he will…"

-" Can you honestly say that his motives were fully transparent to you even when you both were on the same side?" Magnus cut in before letting him finish. Knock Out hesitated. Despite the secretive nature the purple mech had been clear about his devotion to Megatron and the Decepticon cause until the last drop of energon.

-"They were - he was a fanatic. A skilled one, too. The point is now he has no obvious purpose, hopefully not yet. Which is why we should get him before anyone else does."

-" No purpose you can think of, Knock Out, there are still decepticons out there. Moreover with his lord being killed by one of our own."

-" What a surprise, he fought alongside with Megatron before this war even started. Of course he will not be happy about him being snuffed out."

-" Then how can releasing him be not harmful to us?"

Saying that the proud gladiator would not hold a grudge against a fair fight was a moot point -" I am suggesting that not releasing him by ourselves or not knowing where he is may be more harmful in the long run."

\- " We know where he is and we also are in charge of the machinery that creates ground bridges."

-" Which _We_ know of." Knock Out interjected. " Nemesis is not the only Decepticon ship out there with Ground bridge technology."

\- " I sincerely doubt the remaining decepticons will pool their forces to rescue one bot. For one, they do not even know where he is. Furthermore even if we do release him and if he escapes He is the mech most likely to continue with waging the war. We cannot permit that Knock Out."

-" He is no leader, Magnus, he never had been. He is highly skilled at what he does and that was why he was valued by Megatron."

-" I am afraid we cannot base a decision of such magnitude on one testimony. He was close to Megatron and if anything, his followers may still flock around him."

-" But they do not, they never did! It was always somebody else but Soundwave in charge, even when Megatron had been offline."

\- " He is too dangerous."

\- " He is useful."

\- " He has no obligation to cooperate."

\- " He has no voice in the matter!"

As they ping-ponged their reasons across the table in Magnus's office Knock Out fully realized what he was suggesting was insane. But he sincerely hoped that Primus himself was stacking good fortune chips in his favor for what he was doing. He did not even remember how they ended up having this discussion in the first place but it was something the medic took deeply to heart.

-"Why are you even arguing his cause?"

Knock Out clenched and relaxed his fists before reaching for his innermost sentiment.

-" I was extremely lucky to be where I was when Megatron fell. I had an option to choose my allegiances then. All I am proposing is giving Soundwave the same opportunity."

-" He does not deserve it." Ultra Magnus chopped down.

-" Then why do I?"

-" Because you announced it without prompt." What Magnus did not say was that he was the least dangerous of all Decepticon officers as well.

\- " I could not have if I had been stuck in the shadow zone."

-" Look, Knock Out, he considers the Autobots to be inferior beings to him. Releasing him would endanger everything we have been working for so far." Ultra Magnus send a comm message to Ratchet inquiring about the project the both medics should have been working on together.

Knock Out clicked his denta. He had not been privy to THAT little detail. Though what difference did it make?

-" I gather it happened when you captured him." His eyes narrowed. "The incident from which Soundwave returned with partially wiped databanks… Do tell me, Ultra Magnus," Knock Out put his servo on the desk, leaning on it."What other interesting things prisoners of war spout when cornered? You should know first hand." Knock Out would have needed to climb on a chair or in their case - a pile of crates - to be any more 'in your face' with Ultra Magnus.

Unfazed by the medic's attitude, the larger mech retorted -" For one, he chose to delete his databanks himself."

-" He was under pressure." And they were at it again until Knock Out received a string of insistent pings from Ratchet about the readiness of their test serums.

* * *

I promised cows!

Knock Out is stricken by survivor's guilt.


	7. Gates at Collision

So here we go, a teensy bit shorter than previous chapters but, well, bear with me, it was a logical place to stop. Also thank you for all your love, dear readers.

* * *

The nightly roads were empty, they had traveled for a while now, Wheeljack was starting to get suspicious. The tail lights of the Aston Martin brightened and they slowed down again, this time at an official-looking backlit banner saying "Organisation européenne pour la recherche nucléaire CERN". The office building was well-illuminated and a row of lights in the middle floor was on. They slipped past the main building and continued onto a dark dirt road leading to a crop field. Any time now.

-"What now?" Wheeljack chose to speak seeing as nobody was around to hear, also his comm signal was jamming, strange.

-"I guess now we walk." Knock Out's optics constituted red circles in the dark, the rest of his body remained concealed by shadows. The wrecker trained his eyes on the dim, red biolights to follow the medic's movements.

The only reason why Wheeljack was comfortable in his current situation was because he was sure that he could handle whatever the ex-con threw at him in manner of offence. He did not startle when the red mech turned around - his body language transmitted expectancy, not aggression. -"I am afraid it was not just a joyride."

Wheeljack tensed slightly at those words. In the world of wreckers that usually meant an impending assassination attempt. However granted the situation Wheeljack chalked it up to something Knock Out might have picked up from Breakdown. Scratching his neck in what he hoped passed as absentminded manner, Wheeljack made sure the sword handles were within easy reach. -" Figured crop circles were not your thing." The area did send him on edge. The air pulsated with unstable energy. Particle emissions palpable in the air for the two Cybertronians.

-" What is it Wheeljack? You seem tense." The red circles in the dark scrutinized the wrecker. What unnerved the wrecker was that the other mech Knew something was off, he just wanted to hear it from the engineer.

Wheeljack frowned, looking around for the source. All he could see was the terrestrial flora, no technology in sight.

-" Feels like groundbridge but unstable, with... overlapping frequencies and...nowhere in sight? Knock Out, what is this place?"

A flash of relief passed over the medic's features. -" A circular tunnel constructed by humans for nuclear research. I also thought of ground bridges when I first came across this site but I wanted your expertise in this matter."

-" Gotta hand it to you Red, for a mech who is supposed to be prone to shirking there is way too much business in your playtime."

Knock Out shrugged -"Sorry to disappoint you." he retorted with a flippant smile -"Oh and by the way." He now put a servo on his hip. -"Going for an occasional street race is not necessarily indicative of proneness to slacking." He started examining his nails matter of factly, waiting for Wheeljack's apology. When wheeljack did not react to his posturing he rolled his optics with an exasperated groan (wreckers, so rude) and continued in a more serious manner. -" I was wondering, how likely it is for this." He gestured around himself. -" To create a viable bridge."

\- "Can't tell for sure without proper equipment. Not very likely, frequencies are unstable, you would have to be very fast. Is it about Soundwave?" Knock Out had to admit Wheeljack was not daft at all. Also, his opinion the former decepticon TIC's predicament was not exactly secret. Which was probably why he was still on probation. Either way the medic played it off cool.

-" Now that you mention it, the issue of Soundwave should be properly addressed but I was merely worried about Cybertronian technology falling into Their hands." By that he meant human hands. -"As you said, it is highly unlikely, so no threat in that." Knock Out wanted to dismiss the touchy subject as soon as he could. Wheeljack clearly was not taking it well.

-"Not yet." Wheeljack murmured.

-"I beg your pardon?"

-"Not until they manage maintaining it for longer than few seconds at a time."

Knock Out's faceplates moved as if he was tempted to say something but could not decide if bringing it up was a good idea. Wheeljack noticed this little struggle and added for good measure. -" I do not know what past you two share but he is better off where he is now, for everybody, including you." The implication was clear, defectors were, after all, considered worse than proper enemies. Still, it was a high price to pay for unwavering loyalty, Knock Out could sympathize. Yet… the trust Knock Out had gained was tentative at best without bringing another Decepticon mech into the picture so he chose his words very carefully.

-" It will sound strange to you but I consider it a cruel solution." Wheeljack bit down a remark on decepticon concept of cruelty, that would have been underhanded towards the ex-con.

-" Did not quite take you for the emissary type."

Knock Out snorted -"I see no point in slaughtering more bots. Or in this case, starving them to death. That is hardly what emissaries do."

-" I'll take your word for it." Wheeljack chuckled

The chances may have been negligible but then again, it was Soundwave they were dealing with - a little courtesy may come a long way. The air around them settled, the particle accelerator experiment must have stopped. Knock Out observed a quiet shadow pass over the starry sky, the area was known for its nocturnal birds of prey.

-" Ok Mr. Ambassador, I am getting a call through, someone is not happy to see you away."

Knock Out used the moment of Wheeljack's distraction to take a small flask out of his subspace and place it on the ground. He turned his back to his little cache and faced Wheeljack with a big, smug grin.

"- I wonder who that might be."

* * *

Oh, Large Hadron Collider, how many inappropriate jokes have you fuelled?

Also, if you paid close attention you may now form links as to why it was that Autobot energon refiner started giving up the ghost...just putting it out there (There is a plot to this story I swear!)


	8. News from Cybertron

I had not updated this lil' story and it already has a considerable part of a sequel typed up and ready. Gotta finish what I start and give this little bitlet some love.  
The delay is because I having way too much fun with the other story about steampunk transformers. Yep, I went there.  
But now I will stop being a self-advertising hit-monger and return to the story.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Text

A shadow passed over the patch of ground with the abandoned cylinder of energon. Moments later two tiny data cables snatched the cargo off the ground and secured it inside the small subspace. Her midnight blue paint bled into the night sky as she made an elegant arch in the air and returned to her hideout in the nearby barn. With quarry in her grasp, she did a loop in the air to gain momentum, accelerated and disappeared in thin air.

Apparently Knock Out and Wheeljack had been away for longer than they had thought. When they entered their base through the ground bridge a meeting of some sort was in full swing.  
Knock Out cast his glance about the room and pulled up his winning smile.  
-"Aw, a surprise for us? You shouldn't have."  
Arcee, Bulkhead, Smokescreen and Bumblebee were in the main room which also doubled as a meeting room. Wheeljack quickly 'commed his partner in crime.  
::Did you know about this?::  
::As much as you did::  
Wheeljack figured that at least he was not alone in his predicament. -"Are we missing out on something?"  
-"Yes, well, this is an unscheduled meeting. As it stands we are expecting the cybertronian delegation to return any day now…" Arcee explained a little stiffly, clearly not happy with them being late. Some qualities of Ultra Magnus were rubbing off on her.  
Both Knock Out and Wheeljack tensed, the remaining crew had already heard it before so the surprise effect of the statement was lost on them. Once the statement sunk in, however, Wheeljack had a look of a mech who was not all that expectant about the return of some of their crew mates. He mentally started making a plan of which supplies to bring to Jackhammer.  
An expression of alarm passed over Knock Out's features but smoothed again into a neutral mask. -"Do we know the outcome of the negotiations?" Everyone looked tense, this was never a good sign when peace negotiations were at stake. That earned a snort from Wheeljack as Knock Out received a ping on his processor.  
::Great job Mr. Ambassador.::  
Knock Out ignored the jibe and instead evaluated the atmosphere in the room.  
-" Well?" His optics flitted from Arcee to Bumblebee. -"I know we are late but is there a reason to keep us in the dark?"  
-" Ultra Magnus told us that they will elaborate the details when they return to base." Arcee responded solemnly, something must have gone wrong. Knock Out perched on an unoccupied crate, mind whirring. A successful treaty should not have warranted such an elaborate explanation. The answer would have been simple, which meant that their position on Cybertron, Their homeland was anything but.  
The topic of their meeting moved on to a brainstorming session for immediate necessary activities they might need to start with once on Cybertron.  
Wheeljack kept his remark about that hinging heavily on the "details" of the negotiations to himself but it seems Smokescreen had read his mind.  
-" Arcee, like, does it really make sense to make any plans yet? I mean we do not know how the negotiations went. We might be landing ourselves in another war."  
That was when Bumblebee stepped in -" We are not at war with predacons now and with Optimus there I doubt we will be. It is just about letting them know we will not shoot at them and that we expect the same in return. I am sure Predacons want to have their territories as well which is why it is complicated to describe our current position over a comm-link."

When the meeting was over Bumblebee motioned to Wheeljack and Knock Out to follow him. They had expected Arcee to be in their neck cables for their sudden disappearance earlier that night but apparently Bee had taken the initiative. He walked in silence and the both bots followed him.  
Knock Out recalled the last time he had been told off by Bumblebee. He found the interaction heartrendingly cute if not entertaining. This time around the yellow grounder tried for a different approach. He recognized silent treatment when he saw one. There had been only one mech who had had the privilege to use it to drive Knock Out up the wall. There was no way he would allow anyone else to get under his plating.  
-" What is with the attitude, Bee. A penny for your thoughts?" Knock Out's voice may have been playful but his faceplate remained neutral, back ramrod straight and arms crossed over his chest, a defensive position.  
Wheeljack felt like he was going to be in a middle of domestic dispute and he had things to pack. -" Shall I leave you two alone?"  
-" No, Wheeljack, this applies to you as well." Bumblebee sighed he had hoped he would have come up with better ideas about conveying his unhappiness to these mechs. Scolding them would be ridiculous, they were twice if not thrice his age. Threatening them with repercussions was even more ludicrous and he did not want to have that sort of relationship with either of them. He vented deep he needed to be transparent and unbiased, he needed to make them understand. -" I was on duty last night and you both left together without letting me know. I would appreciate that you inform me next time you leave." He looked at Knock Out pointedly. What remained unspoken was that Knock Out missing had been the real red mech wavered under Bumblebee's stare, feeling uncomfortable. Back on Nemesis their little nightly escapade might have incurred a loud reproach or a small physical punishment and none of them had made Knock Out feel as inadequate as this. Most likely because Bee genuinely Cared and that was a sentiment Knock Out was still getting used to.  
-" Apologies Bee, won't happen again." Wheeljack replied earnestly. Bumblebee turned his optics to Knock Out. What was he supposed to say? He did not feel sorry for having gone out for a myriad of reasons. And yet Bumblebee waited, looking at him with those round blue optics. Eye ridges neutral, Bee was not angry with him, probably just concerned. Knock Out's mouth felt uncharacteristically dry.  
-" Definitely, yes."

Despite having been out for most of the night Knock Out could not get himself to recharge. He had too much on his mind and staying awake alone in his room was an unappealing option. He decided to brood over a cube of hi-grade (courtesy of Wheeljack) in the currently unoccupied common room. That was when Smokescreen decided to try spooking him again and got a laser pointer thrown at him for his efforts. Clearly the rookie thought his presence was desired.  
After a moment of sitting in complete silence and watching Knock Out stare at his data pad, Smokescreen quipped -" You know, I feel I have a destiny." making Knock Out snort his hi-grade. He had a knack for making the red medic spill his energon, one way or another. Clearly Smokescreen also had difficulty sleeping but for completely different reasons.  
Knock Out retrieved a rag from his subspace and cleared the energon from where it had spilled. Once satisfied with results he deigned acknowledging Smokescreen's statement -" Have you felt that way for long?"  
-" Yeah, even before the Alpha Trion put me in stasis lock."  
\- " Have you seen a specialist about it?" Knock Out reactivated the data pad from sleep mode and swiped it for a new entry. Reading this stuff was far more entertaining over mindless banter.  
-" What? No, that's...I'm serious. It is a feeling, like an urge to become..."  
-" Cannon fodder?" Knock Out supplied helpfully from behind the data pad. Autobot coding was becoming less helpful as sleeping aid now that he was starting to understand it.  
-" No, no!" The rookie waved his hands in front of him as if he was physically waving away the concept. -" Something big..and noble."  
-" A biopart donor?" Knock Out settled for a game of "how many of these barbs would bounce off Smokescreen's processor before he would catch the drift".  
-" You are snippy because you are upset with Bee, but it is true, I feel it."  
Knock Out rolled his optics, of Course, only weeks after his defection the base was already abuzz with gossip that Knock Out and Bumblebee were having a fling. Apparently Bee's possible flings (past or present) were some sort of a hot topic at the base and given Knock Out's flamboyant attitude he was becoming a close second target for relationship gossip.-" Well, I'm glad all that is clear at least to some of us."  
-" Did you not feel it when you decided to become a medic?"  
The medic in question gave Smokescreen a curious look. -"No."  
-" Come on, why did you become a medic in the first place?"  
-" No big or noble reasons here, kid." For Primu's sake, not every medic was a Ratchet.  
-" Then why?"  
Knock Out gave one of those looks which he reserved for Smokescreen alone. -" Because I was not otherwise useful on battlefield and was able to cope with the training."  
-" But then...why did you stick with it?"  
-" Proved to be useful."  
-" But then you do not really like it." That was a tin of scraplets Knock Out preferred leaving untouched.  
-" I think that is enough about me, how about you tell me about your predicament with destiny?"

* * *

Now the last part was just a self-indulgent silliness session, don't judge me!


End file.
